A Child's Tempest
by walkthrough
Summary: The simplest stories in life can be told in a day but my story was not simple and it didn’t happen in a day. Where it all began? I didn’t exactly know, but what I do know is that the moment I was cornered by soldiers ,my life changed completely. RoyxEd


**Summary: **The simplest stories in life can be told in a day but my story was _not_ simple and it _didn't _happen in a day. Where it all began? I didn't exactly know, but what I _do _know is that the moment I was cornered by soldiers…my life changed completely. RoyxEd

**Author's Note: **This story had been in my mind for such a long time and yet this is my first try to see how it will turn out. Yes, this will include an OC . You can consider this as a post-series story so no Homunculus and no Dante and all that other stuff about philosopher's stone. Ed has his limbs back and Al has his body back. Roy does NOT have an eye-patch. To all Maes fans…I'm sorry, but Hughes would have to stay dead on this one.

Oh and take note that Roy would be the Fuhrer in my story. I just think that this time he _deserves _to be a Fuhrer seeing that he never fulfilled his dream of becoming one at the end of the series (It made me a little sad).

**Disclaimer: **The fma characters do NOT belong to me and you all know what that means. Yes, it means that like all the other people writing fanfics for FMA we can only own it in one place…In our dreams.

**A Child's Tempest**

Chapter 1

_Abysmal_

Words can't possibly describe the emotions that I'm feeling now. As I was surrounded by people who were clad in navy blue uniform, I couldn't choose whether to be happy for not being a part of those who were killed or be afraid of the thought that they planned something worse than death for me. They looked down on me as I stayed motionless like an injured kitten, leaning on a structure of what used to be a decent house as a support to my back.

I was covered in mud, dirt, grime, ash, and to my disgust, blood. Of course, some of the blood that had dyed my white shirt completely red was mine but half of that would be someone else's. I couldn't remember where all the blood came from. All I could remember was trying my best to escape the wrath of the cannons, run away from the destructive effect of fire and, if possible, avoid getting hit by bullets from a gun that was held in some soldier's hand.

I probably stumbled and fell a thousand times at least in my attempts to save my life. And every time that I fell to the ground, a dead body would be there to break my fall. Seeing those dead bodies would make me run faster. I couldn't stand the foul odor those bodies gave off. The smell of decaying and burning human flesh was the worst smell ever. That smell would motivate me more to try and stay alive because I would never want to smell like that.

Supposing that these guys would kill me just as they had killed the villagers and my parents, out of fear, I would still be running right now. However, my left leg was already broken. It gave up hours ago out of exhaustion and one measly step was all it took to completely make it useless. My right leg only sustained a few scratches. My arms were downright bloody having been the ones who took most of the shrapnel and licked by fire. I think I broke a rib or two but my body was pretty much fine.

All in all, I was surprised that I even made it this far without losing anything that was a part of my body. And why shouldn't I be surprised? Everyone else in the village had lost a leg and an arm before they had died. Others who were luckier had no need to feel the pain of having one of their limbs separated from their body. Their heads were easily ripped off from their necks. It was a very gruesome sight but the war had gone on for a week, maybe two…I never really know since I didn't bother to remember what day it was…at least something must have happened to make me a bit immune to the sight of blood or dead people who didn't die peacefully.

I had wondered…

Wouldn't it have been better if I just died with the rest of them? Being a survivor was usually considered a gift. But when you're cornered by the enemy and you have nowhere else to go, early death would have been a blessing. It was a blessing that I would've readily accepted if I knew earlier that this would be my fate. Between their guns and the cannons that were very much active a week ago, I would've chosen the cannons. Guns where painful and depending on where you are shot determines whether you die swiftly with no pain at all or die in a slow, agonizing way.

I looked up to find the bright rays of the sun blurring my eyesight. At that time, an eagle flew by, seemingly mocking my captivity whereas he was free to soar heights that no man had ever reached. Higher and higher the eagle went and seemed as though he was about to touch the sun. Where he flew next, I never knew. A woman blocked my view of the eagle. She was intimidating with her hawk like eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back and seemed as if it was held there by a clamp. She kneeled down in front of me as if she was checking to see if I had any fatal injuries.

I shivered in fear when she touched my broken left leg. I was scared that she was going to tear it off right away but she didn't do that. Instead, she caressed my leg in a motherly affection and turned her back on me and said

"Fuhrer, I think the child has a broken leg and a few gunshot wounds on his arms. Other than that, there seem to be no fatal injuries."

And then she stood up, almost immediately, when a tall man had come close. Just as the blonde woman, he was also quite intimidating. Dark eyes stared back at me as if he was trying to know me just by the simple act of eye contact. His raven hair was quite messy but it didn't dither his authoritative appearance. His eyes seemed calculating but they also held a bit of concern. Just as the woman had done, he, too, kneeled in front of me with his right leg kneeling while his left foot was firm on the ground. His hands that were covered with gloves examined my left leg.

He didn't seem to care that the dirt and blood on it had marred the pristine, white clothe. He continued to look at my injuries and occasionally, he mutters something to himself but it was too low of a whisper for me to understand.

"You seem to be right, Hawkeye. He does have a broken leg and some wounds on his arms. That broken leg could be fixed easily but if we expose those gunshot wounds without being treated any longer, it might cause this boy to have some complications a little later."

"What shall we do, Fuhrer sir?"

"I'll cauterize it to disinfect and stop the bleeding of the wound. Once we do that…"

"Cauterize?" I asked, suddenly finding it in me to speak out. My tiny voice was little scratchy but they understood me anyhow.

"To cauterize means to close the wound by burning it making the blood clot faster to stop it from spilling any further and at the same time killing the bacteria in an instant."

"Burn?"

"Yes, burn. Now this might hurt a little but I need you to stay still for me so we can get this over with."

I only gave a nod. I shut my eyes tight and looked away from my arm. It would probably be painful and looking away will not lessen that pain but I didn't want to see fire anymore. I had expected to hear the sound of match striking an object to set fire on it but I heard none of that. Instead, I only heard the sound of a snap and felt the searing pain of fire against my flesh. I refrained myself from screaming out loud and settled for a whimper.

"There, all done. That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Was all he said. He still didn't leave his current position and, in fact, he was staring at me straight in the eye "Amethyst?" he inquired, indicating of course to the color of my eyes. "A little blood red, actually…But it looks a lot like Amethyst."

"How old are you, kid?"

"7 years old…sir"

"Are your parents…" he stopped short, seemingly considering the statement for a while before replacing it with another question instead "Are you the only one in the village who survived?"

"Yes…" a bit of uncertainty laced the tone of my voice. Was this man going to kill me personally or not?

"You don't need to fear us." He said to me, sensing perhaps that I was afraid they would kill me "We're not the ones who destroyed your village. This is the military of the very country your village sits in. Some of the officials has informed me about this and I sent a couple of soldiers to come and defend the village but…" he looked around and observed his surrounding and grimaced when his eyes laid upon a group of dead bodies composed of a couple and two very young children.

"It seems like we're too late." He continued, forcefully looking away from the miserable environment behind him.

"Then why are you all still here?"

"We were hoping there would be some people who survived…" he stated more to himself than to me "And looks like we were right."

I didn't reply anymore. In the first place, I didn't even know how to react when he said that they weren't there to hurt me. At that moment, dark clouds rolled in, blocking away that light of the sun that symbolized hope. It seemed as if time hovered for a moment, savoring the sound of complete silence before a single drop of water fell on my pale skin and rolled down to the ground. After that, more and more followed until it turned into a full scale rainfall. It was pelting my skin, the skin of the dead people and put off the fire. It washed away the blood that settled on my arms, my legs, my forehead and it also washed the once white gloves of that man.

"Your gloves…they're clean again." I said absent-mindedly, looking intently on the circle that was drawn on the gloves. To my surprise, the man smiled at me, amused.

"No, they're not." He replied. The statement confused me but I didn't have time to think "What's your name?"

I hesitated for a bit before answering "Alexander, but my family and friends call me Alex." With a pang of sadness, I added "they used to."

"Well, Alex…you survived this long…"

"I tried to survive."

"I know and it's amazing how you managed to keep all of your limbs intact through all of this. It would be a shame if we leave you out here."

"And where exactly are you going to take me?"

"To central where you can start a new life."

"A new life?" I almost cried when the loss of family and friends was finally processed in my brain "But how? I don't have anywhere to stay in if I go to central."

"He's right, sir" The blonde woman, whom the man had called Hawkeye (I wonder if that's really her name) said as she handed him an umbrella "There's a chance that he might get sent to a fosters home before they find someone suitable enough to take care of him."

"True" he said. He stood up and muttered thanks to the blonde woman before continuing "I don't think he'd like to get sent there."

"So what shall we do about him, Fuhrer sir? We can't exactly leave him be."

"You know…" he seemed to be considering his next words again before he says them out loud "Edward and I…we've been thinking about adopting a child this year. We've looked at about every orphanage house within central and we haven't found the one we would like to take in just yet."

"Fuhrer, are you suggesting…?"

"With his consent of course." He kneeled back down in front of me and settled a hand on my messy dark brown hair "Would you like to stay with me when we get to central?"

"Well, I…"

"Stop, before you answer, I want you to know that, that is just a second opinion. You are always free to tell us if you have any living relatives where you can stay with and serve as your guardian."

"No, I have no other relative that I know of. All of them settled in this village and they…well, you know."

"I see…" he frowned, a thoughtful look crossing his face "Well, then I guess you have no other choice. Unless you don't want to stay with me?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

"That's settled then. Armstrong!" he yelled out through the throngs of soldiers that were behind him. A few moments of silence passed before a tall and bulky, muscular man had come forward.

He was bald for the most parts except for that little hair on his head that looked pretty much like a baby's hair. Also, he had a large beard or mustache that covered his mouth. He didn't look that intimidating to me, just that he looked really strong.

"Yes, Fuhrer sir?" a strong, dotting voice that seemed as if it emanated from within the diaphragm spoke out. He saluted at the raven haired man.

"Armstrong, kindly instruct your squad to pick up every single dead body and give them proper burial. I want this village cleaned out and be made into a memorial for all the people who died here."

"Right away, Fuhrer sir." And then he moved to the back. Soldiers who were on his path quickly stepped away and re-arranged into their original positions "You heard him! Start picking up every single dead body you can find! Move!"

"As for you…" he said, turning his attention to me, once again. He smirked and offered a hand to me then pulled me inside the shelter of the small umbrella that the blonde woman held. My left leg hurt and I was wondering if he was going to make me walk to wherever we were heading. To my surprise, he leaned down, his back facing me with his hands extended.

"Come on, I'll carry you to the military truck waiting for us." I obliged without saying a word. I climbed up to his back, wrapping my arms around the man's neck but not too strongly as I might strangle him. Then he held both of my legs to his side to make sure I won't fall.

"You're pretty light, kid. How long since you've eaten?"

"A week ago, I think." Then, he started walking. The blonde woman still followed him with the umbrella. It didn't take a genius to notice that this man was a high authority.

"That won't do. Before we set out for central, I'll make sure you eat plenty first."

"Sir…?" She interjected, eyeing the man who was carrying me very carefully "What do you think…I mean…How will Edward react to all of this?"

He glanced at me for a little while before facing what was in front of him "She'll take pity, no doubt. I know Edward will be able to accept him as her own son."

"But, sir, Edward needs her own opinion for this. I'm sure she will care for this child for as long as he is recovering from his physical and mental injuries but…"

"I'm sure Ed will like Alex. I can just feel it. She'll love this child. She will…"

"Um…who's this Edward?" I asked all of a sudden. I was stunned to hear that Edward was actually a woman's name not a man.

"She's my wife Alex. When we get to central, you'll meet her."

"Oh…"

Well, if I was going to be adopted by this man then she's going to be my mother. Hmm, my mother? But I only had one mother and one father, just that they were both dead. Obviously this Fuhrer guy is nice but what about his wife? Will she be as soft and kind as my mother was? Will she care for me like my mother did? Will she have a serene smile? Will she love me? I don't know. I'm scared to think that she won't like me and I'll be abandoned or worse…

"Well, sir…if this is what you want, then I'm right behind you. And I think you're actually right. Maybe Edward will take a liking to this child."

"Yeah and I can't wait to see her face when I arrive home and bring her the child that we've been wanting to have."

"Can't she have her own children?" I suddenly blurted out. I noticed that it made the blonde woman cringe a little and her blank expression turned sad. I didn't know what the man's reaction was because all I could see was the back of his head but I noticed that the atmosphere became gloomy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that…mister?"

"It's Roy Mustang but for now you can just call me Roy."

"Roy…." I repeated, embedding the name to my memory.

"And I'm Riza Hawkeye. Likewise, you can just call me Riza."

"So why is it that they don't have any children?" I repeated the question.

"Because, Edward can't conceive a child. Some things that she had done in the past messed with her internal organs and had destroyed most of the parts that she needed for creating a baby." Roy explained to me.

"Like what?"

"Like a womb. It's supposed to be where the baby is kept but since she doesn't have it anymore there wouldn't be a place where the baby could stay until it's born."

I didn't say anything after that. I was actually feeling sad for her. My mom used to say that there's nothing more fulfilling than having a baby of your own. She said that only mothers can create life. But what about Edward? What did she do that made her unable to have a child of her own? That thought made me fear more. Is she bitter about her incapability of bearing a child? If she is will she ever accept me?

I was too tired to think up of any answers and I haven't gotten any sleep since the war. There was no time to sleep when you have bombs and bullets that can kill you while you lye in restless slumber. The soft pitter-patter of the rain was like a lullaby that encouraged me to go to sleep. So I gave in and let my eyelids close, covering my amethyst colored eyes.

The last thing I heard while I was on my way to dreamland was the soft lament of a bird trying to find shelter on a tree that's burnt and held no leaves at all. That and the soft sound of the rain against the earth as it tried to wash away the blood that fell on the innocent lands of our village.

_TBC-_

**Author's Note:**

So how was it?? Was it bad? Wait it really, really bad? Please review and let me know! Whatever you guys say will decide whether I should continue or not…

But I probably will anyways!! I promise this will get a lot better! Until then…just keep on reading and reviewing, k??


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